Space They Cannot Touch
by CyborgWithGreatHair
Summary: This is the sequel to Four Spare Seats and a song fic inspired by Kate Miller Heidke's Space They Cannot Touch. After finding out Steph is pregnant, the couple inform one Helen Plum and end up having to deal with the aftermath. COMPLETE


_Earlier this week, while on a break from attempting to write the next chapter of Not as Planned, I decided to re-read my previous stories Late, and Four Spare Seats, thinking I could probably think of a sequel for one of them. Now, I'd promised myself that the only way I would continue Four Spare Seats (which was a songfic based on Kate Miller Heidke's song of the same name) was if I found another song by the same artist that fit. Well i found one and this is it. Please be warned there is_ a lot _of Helen bashing and the story gets a little more steamy than I'm used to writing._

 **Space They Cannot Touch**

Ranger's POV

I watched Steph's eye begin to twitch, a tell-tale sign that despite all her earlier resolves, her mother was starting to get to her. She'd been so optimistic on the way over, confident that the news we had to share would please the Great Helen Plum. After all, she was the woman who had been pestering us for grandchildren since the day we returned from our honeymoon. Apparently, Steph being present wasn't enough. We were expected to immediately change nine-five percent of our lifestyles… and personalities. Steph was supposed to stop working, she wasn't even allowed to do office work. And me? Well, let's just say I needed to find a new job, because my mother-in-law didn't have a very high opinion of my ability to stay alive long enough to help raise this child. And I needed to 'lighten up'.

And _obviously_ Steph would never be capable of doing it on her own. We'd both been interrogated on our plans and preparations for this baby to the point where Helen was expecting to know which doctors would be present at the birth.

"Give us a break, Mom," Steph griped. Her hands, folded on the table in the most serene posture she could manage, were turning white, betraying her inner tension. "I only found out I was pregnant four days ago. We haven't had a chance to discuss all the details yet."

"Well you need to get to it," Helen insisted, her hands submerged in a sink full of hot, soapy water. She didn't even have enough decency to give her daughter her undivided attention. If I didn't know that Steph would hate me for it, I might have taught her a lesson or two over the years, but I knew better than to invoke my wife's wrath. "Baby's don't just happen, you know," she added matter-of-factly.

Steph rolled her eyes. "I just figured you'd want to be the first to know about something significant to happen in my life for a change," Steph said evenly. The twitch in her eye kicked it up a notch. We'd gone straight to the Plum's house once her morning sickness had settled down, wanting to show some respect for the bitch by letting her be the first to know. We hadn't even let the men know yet. "I thought you might be happy."

Helen sighed exasperatedly and finally removed her hands from the sink, turning to face us as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Of course I'm happy," she said. "You just need to think this through properly before it's too late to turn back."

"It's already too late to turn back," Steph pointed out. "I'm pregnant."

Helen reached across the table to pat her daughter's hand. "It's not too late yet, sweetie," she said. Her tone was the same as if she were correcting a particularly dim witted child on the colour of the sky.

I cringed inwardly, her hidden meaning registering in my mind immediately. "Are you suggesting we terminate the pregnancy?" I demanded, my voice quiet and even. I'd learned early on in my life that a quietly spoken threat held much more power than any amount of yelling or screaming. The knowledge had served me well throughout my military careers and was still proving useful today.

Steph gasped, her eyes wide with shock as she cut her gaze from her mother to me and back. Helen had the gall to roll her eyes. "It's still an option," she said defensively. "Have a think about it."

I'd had enough. I would not sit there and allow the woman to pant anymore self-doubt in Stephanie's head. She'd already had a lifetime to do as much damage as she had. I'd been working diligently to try reprogram her way of thinking, but with every visit we took another step backwards.

And now this.

Steph had proclaimed that she would never have kids. I'd been worried about how she would handle it if she ever did become pregnant, but she seemed happy so far. She hadn't freaked out at all in the twenty four hours since she'd told me. There'd been a minor freak out when I got home from DC, but that was more to do with the prospect of me dying and leaving her to raise the child alone than anything else. I didn't need her mother watering and fertilising the seeds of doubt she'd planted so long ago.

Standing, I glanced at my watch. "We should go if we want to make it to my parents' before dinner," I suggested, pulling my keys from my pocket. Steph gave me a look that was briefly quizzical, since we didn't have any plans of going anywhere after we left the Plum's house, and then relief as she realised I was making excuses for us to leave.

She stood as well, grabbing her handbag from the floor from by her feet. "Right," she agreed. "I'd hate to be late."

Helen wasn't finished yet, though. "Do you really think it's wise?" she asked, patronising. "You don't want to tire yourself out, do you? I mean, it's not just you you have to worry about now, there's the baby to consider too."

"I'll be fine, Mom," she said firmly hiking her bag higher on her shoulder. "I'll have a nap in the care on the way if it makes you worry less."

I hated that she was making promises to appease the controlling bitch, but it didn't matter in the end, since we weren't going anywhere but home.

"We'll see you at Family Dinner next week, Helen," I said, turning to make my exit with one hand on the small of Steph's back to guide her out ahead of me. I half expected Helen to follow us out, just to prolong the torture, but when I glanced over my shoulder, her hand were already back in the sink. The less time we spent with that bloody woman the better, and she could be damn sure we aren't going to let her around the child unsupervised.

"Bye Daddy," Steph called into the living room as we passed. She adored the man and I could tell that unlike his wife, he cared about her a great deal. Frank was always ready to listen when she needed to talk and didn't assert his opinions on her unless she asked for it, and even then they were just suggestions, not demands.

"Bye Pumpkin," he called back, taking the time to look up from the TV for her. He didn't do that for many. "Congratulations."

That was it. No questions, berating, warnings or anything else like that. Just 'congratulation.' Frank, I could deal with. His wife, not so much.

There was an extra spring in Steph's step as we made our way to the Porsche at the curb, but I could tell she was still mulling over her mother's words as she got in. Her jaw was set and the twitch, while milder than it had been in the kitchen, was still evident. We'd only been inside for twenty minutes, but the blasted woman had done enough damage to last the entire nine months of this pregnancy, if not all the way up until the child turned twenty-one.

I let out a soft sigh before opening my own door and sliding behind the wheel. "I know I say this every time we visit your parents," I said. "But you say the word and I can have her dealt with permanently."

She let out a laugh, but the shakiness of it let me know just how much Helen's words had affected her. "What if she's right, Carlos?" She asked, staring out the windshield, completely shell shocked. "What if we're not ready for this? Maybe we should… _turn back_."

"Babe," I said, mentally cursing her mother's name as my fingers tightened on the wheel. "We're ready. We've been married five years and haven't even had a pregnancy scare before now. The universe waited until we were ready. You know how I know we're ready?"

"How?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Neither of us freaked out," I pointed out.

She cut her eyes to me, a small smile playing on her lips. "Actually, I freaked out a little when I first found out."

"But it wasn't for long," I reminded her. "Otherwise you would have called me up straight away." A thought occurred to me and I amended my statement. "Or you wouldn't have told me at all."

She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. "You're right," she agreed, though she didn't sound convinced. "Let's go home."

I started the car and steered us out of the burg, but I wasn't heading for Haywood. Steph needed time to reprogram herself from her mother's viral words before we returned to Rangeman and she let something slip about the baby and these views to the men. Knowing them, they'd want to know _exactly_ what had put her in such a state. Plus, after three days away in Washington DC and two days of misunderstanding-induced separation, and then _today's_ fiasco, I wanted time to reconnect with my wife without the threat of interruptions that were always readily available at Rangeman, even when we were locked away on the seventh floor.

It took Steph longer than it should have to realise we weren't heading home, which only confirmed the fact that she needed a time out.

"Uh, Carlos?" She said uncertainly.

"Babe?"

"I'm pretty sure home is in the opposite direction," she pointed out, looking over her shoulder back down the highway.

"Not that home, Baby," I said simply. We had a house in a gated community just outside of town. No one knew about it. Not my family. Not her family. Not the Rangemen. Just us, and the care taker, and I could trust him to keep his mouth shut about our location. "I thought we could use some time away.

"Oh," she uttered, then allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "Thanks."

A chuckled crept up on me and I could do nothing to hold it in. "Don't thank me," I told her, shaking my head as I grabbed her hand and repositioned it to my thigh so I could have the satisfaction of her contact while we drove. "This is as much for me as it is for you."

*o*

When we arrived, Steph wasted no time in sliding up onto the car's bonnet to begin out ritual. Each time we returned to the house she insisted on making love on every surface imaginable just to make sure it was all still structurally sound At least that's what she said when I asked her reason one time. I had a feeling it had something about the guarantee of no interruptions and that while I always made sure her needs were met before I dashed away, I had a feeling her hunger went way deeper than I could ever imagine, even after all these years. It wasn't like I was complaining, I could never get enough of the woman. It just seemed a little excessive to do it on every table and sofa and bed. Not to mention both showers.

It took hours, but when we finally collapsed onto the master bed, having thoroughly exhausted ourselves and the house's offering of surfaces, she had her thinking face on again. I'd just tortured her with my body and she'd immediately gone back to mulling over her mother's words. I had to put an end to this before it ruined the entire weekend. And potentially a lot more than that. Helen Plum was like a poison, slowly seeping through Staph's system, shutting things down and making her miserable.

There was no way I would put up with that woman's cloud raining all over our sanctuary.

I leaned up on one elbow, staring down into my wife's face where it rested on the pillow. There was a worried crease between her brow and her lower lip was between her teeth. "What are you doing?" I asked, letting the suspicion I felt leak into my tone.

"Um, thinking?" she said, though it sounded more like a question. Another clear sign that her mother was getting to her. Her usual certainty had vanished.

My left eyebrow rose of its own accord. "I just provided you with no less than sixteen unbelievable orgasms," I said, not bothering to attempt being modest. She knew I wasn't. "How is your brain even functioning right now?"

She sighed and brought her hands up to cover her face as a grimace spread across her face. I hated it when she tried to hide from me, but I let her for a short time, knowing that this day had been hard on her. We were clearly still working through the aftermath of her mother. "I can't get it out of my head," she said, peering at me between her fingers. "What if she's right? What if we're better off ter… not having this baby?"

Suppressing my own sigh, I sat up and swung one leg over her hip so that I was straddling her, and gently prised her hands away, holding them both firmly in one of my own so that I could run the other over her cheek. "Babe," I said sternly. "You will be the best mother there ever was. You're the most loving and understanding woman I have ever met. That's why I married you. I've never encountered anyone who could know what I did for a living and still stick by me. You looked past all my flaws and found something worthy. That's a quality not many have, Babe. And that's how I know that any child would be lucky to have you as a mother. So you can put this nonsense of terminating the pregnancy out of your head along with anything else Helen might have implanted there."

Steph didn't look convinced, she was back to biting her lip. "It's hard to ignore her when she's been the voice in my head my entire life," she reminded me.

I shook my head, adjusting my hold on her hands. "Look around, Stephanie," I instructed, using her whole name in an attempt to gain her full attention. "Where are we?"

Her answer came hesitantly, unsure of where I was going with this. "Home."

"Exactly," I nodded. "And what have I always said our home is?"

"Space they can't touch," she murmured quietly. There was no hesitation this time. I'd said it enough that it was automatic for her. It was our place away from the influence of the outside world. We came here to get away, forget our troubles and wind down. Whatever horrible things had been said or done were left at the gate on the way in. Especially this. This was not the kind of thing I needed Steph worrying about. We didn't need to work out all the ins and outs of who would be at the birth and how we would raise the child and what colour booties we'd put on it first. We had nine months to get used to the idea of being parents.

"Precisely," I agreed, leaning down to claim her mouth with my own. Briefly. She let out a moan of protest when I sat back again. "Any outside left should be left back at the gate. If you still feel the need, we can pick them up when we leave and continue to agonise over them, but this is our zone. Me and you."

A smile graced her lips. A true smile this time, not those half smiles laced with tension she'd attempted on the drive over. "Do you think there's room for one more here?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye as she managed to extract one hand from my grip and lay it on her stomach.

I laughed. "Well there certainly isn't room for one more in the Rangeman penthouse," I pointed out, thinking about how, despite all the closet space we had in the walk-in, half her shoes were housed in the hall closet. I released the hand I still held and placed both of mine with hers on her flat stomach, rubbing gentle circles with my thumbs as I thought about her question more seriously. It was a three bedroom house, so theoretically we had room for Steph and me plus _two_ , but I wasn't sure how I felt about giving up our sanctuary. Nor did I know how I felt about knowing that we'd had sex on pretty much any surface the child touched. "We could always buy a new house," I mentioned. "Together this time."

I'd bought this house just two months after our first meeting at the diner. Even while I denied myself the pleasure of being with her, I was convinced I would someday share this house with her. The moment I walked through the door I'd pictured Steph there and it just seemed right. I'd had it all furnished and accessorised with things I could see Steph using and when we'd finally gotten engaged, I brought her straight here. She'd been thrilled to have a space that no one knew about, where we could turn off our phones and pretend we were the only two people in the world and definitely _not_ be interrupted. She loved the house and she loved coming here as much as I loved being here with her.

The thought of giving that up, even to share with our own child, had me tightening jaw. This was our private space where nothing could touch us. Probably, there could a nuclear holocaust and we would be none the wiser if we were inside this bedroom.

"Somewhere we don't mind a few people know about," I added thoughtfully. "We can keep this one for just us and make a new home for our family."

Steph's nodded her agreement with the plan, but her eyes were widening in something similar to surprise. "We're going to be a family," she whispered incredulously.

"You're going to be a mommy," I added, sliding my fingers up her to twiddle her nipples.

Her gasp was almost disguised as she replied, "You're going to be a daddy."

"Again," I reminded her, leaning down to nip at her breast.

She hissed in a breath, this time unable to reply for several seconds as I repeated my actions on the other side. Her breathing was laboured when she reopened her eyes and met mine as I sat back again. "Julie," she puffed. "Right. I forgot."

"I'm not really her Daddy though," I pointed out, shifting us so that her thighs were resting over my own and I had a perfect, unobstructed view of her body. "Just her father. I didn't raise her. I was just a name on a cheque."

"Right," she agreed breathlessly, gazing down her own body toward me. I glanced down, taking in her blushing lips, beading with moisture. "You'll be raising this one though."

I nodded slowly. "That I will." I shifted again, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her throat as the head of my very large erection slid against her entrance. "Ready for orgasm number seventeen?"

*o*

After round seventeen, we made it down to the kitchen where Steph sat her gorgeous, naked but on the counter, drinking a Gatorade while I made dinner. We ate on the patio, revelling in the fresh air and chatting amicably about anything and everything under the sun, except her mother and work. When we were done, we moved to the living room and she put Ghostbusters into the DVD player before curling up beside me on the couch. She was asleep before the end credits, not that I was surprised. She'd had a stressful couple of days, and with the extra stress her body was already put under with making sure the baby had everything it needed to grow I didn't blame her for conking out on our first night away.

I carried her up to the bedroom and got her settled in the middle of the bed without her stirring and quickly double checked the alarms were set before crawling in behind her. It didn't take long for me to join her in the land of nod once I'd drawn her into my arms but I awoke several hours later from a nightmare that was not my usual kind of self-torture. Over the years, I'd come to accept that I would occasionally relive my darkest hours in the dark of night when my mind was relaxed enough to allow them to sneak in.

This was different.

This nightmare was a more personal demon. In it, Steph and I were together, and there was the baby, but I was the most horrible person I'd ever met. I ignored the baby. I snapped at Steph. I didn't help her care for our child in the least, instead saying that if she couldn't handle it she should just give it to her mother to raise. Obviously, that had been the last straw for dream Stephanie because she left me. Cut me off completely from contact. I couldn't find her anywhere. I spiralled into insanity and went on a killing spree around Trenton, starting with her parents.

My heart was beating against my ribcage as I sat up and made my way to the bathroom to wash away the blood I could feel splattering my skin. There was nothing there but sweat, of course, but I needed to wash the imaginary blood away with real soap and water before I would be willing to re-join Steph in bed. It was the most terrifying feeling, witnessing myself being so cruel to the only woman I could ever love. Not only that, our child. The gorgeous, blue eyed, curly haired baby she'd held so tightly against her chest as I spat hurtful words at her.

I shuddered through a few deep breaths as I towelled off and then found myself staring into my own deep brown eyes in the mirror. I tried to find that demon I had been in the dream in my eyes, sure it would be just under the surface, waiting for a moment of weakness to burst out and take over. But there was nothing. My eyes just looked tired. It was a relief, and enough reassurance to allow me to return to the bedroom.

Lying on my side, my head once again propped up on an elbow, I watched the gentle rise and fall of Steph's chest two feet away. She was perfect. My entire world lying next to me. My wife. My partner. My confidante. My love. My light in the dark. My gaze slid lower to the arm that was draped across her stomach. My child.

I shook my head, quietly correcting myself out loud, "Our child."

What had happened in my dream was just that. A dream. It wasn't real. I wasn't like that. Stephanie was a constant reminder that no matter how terrible a person I thought I was, there was still some good in me. I just hoped I was good enough to keep them both for a very long time.

At that moment, Steph stretched, reaching out her arms as she rolled to her side. When she didn't encounter my warm, hard-muscled body, her eyes flew open, dashing around the room. Searching. It took a moment, but they finally landed on me and she sighed, her muscles relaxing back into the mattress for a moment before she shuffled over to press up against me.

"What are you doing all the way over here?" she asked, her face buried in my chest. "I thought you'd abandoned me."

"I had to use the bathroom and you were looking so sexy and peaceful when I returned that I didn't want to disturb you," I explained. It could have been true, but my wife was much more perceptive than a lot of people gave her credit for. Even me, it appeared.

"Carlos," she murmured, tilting her head back to peer at me. "You skin is damp and you smell more strongly of Bulgari than you did before. Did you shower?"

I sighed, rolling onto my back and wrapping my arm around her to pull her closer. "Yeah," I uttered, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't bear to look at her. I knew she was going to ask another question and I'd be obliged to answer her honestly. I also knew that the truth would only worry her.

"Why?" she asked.

For a brief moment, I considered flipping her over and distracting her the best way I knew how, but it would only come back to bite me on the ass later, so I clenched my jaw tight for five seconds before releasing it. "To wash off the blood," I told her.

As I'd expected, she sat bolt upright, her gaze roving over my body in search of a wound. "What blood?" she demanded, her hands following the path of her eyes just to be sure, in the shadow light, that there really was nothing there. "Did something happen? What-?"

I pulled her back down onto my chest, resting my chin on the top of her head so I didn't have to see the worried expression on her face as I told her about my dream. I went into agonising detail to be sure she understood the severity of my crimes and then we lay there in absolute silence for half an hour. I knew my words had reduced her to tears, I could feel them pooling on my chest, but I couldn't bring myself to wipe them away, to soothe her. I didn't want to see the hurt and hatred I imagined there. My only saving grace was that she didn't immediately pull away from me, disgusted.

Finally, she sat up, both of her hands cupping my face as she forced me to look at her. "You are not that person," she informed me firmly. "That was a nightmare. Nightmares aren't real. They're fakery set up by our subconscious and fuelled by our deepest fears. You fear losing control and hurting me. Hurting the baby. Destroying everything you love. But you won't because you are a good man, Carlos Manoso. You are honourable. You are worthy. You are mine. And I love you."

"I love you, too, Babe," I murmured.

"Exactly," she confirmed, sitting back so that her hands now rested on my shoulders. A smirk was playing at the corner of her mouth. "And it's because you love me that I know you would never be able to do such unspeakable things to me. Know what?"

I shook my head, not following her logic.

She leaned down to whisper in my ear, and I had trouble focusing on the words she uttered, distracted by her breasts pressed against my chest. "Because you promised you'd never let anything bad happen to me."

We stared into each other's eyes for a few minutes before she let out a small chuckle and tapped me on the chest. I raised an eyebrow at her in question, waiting for her to explain her sudden mood change.

"I was just thinking," she said, crossing her arms on my chest and resting her head there. "That it's a little silly to be having such thoughts now. We've been through a hell of a lot and proven to ourselves and the world that there is nothing we can't handle. Not only that, you haven't even been frustrated with me enough to yell at me in the five years we've been married."

She had a point, and that, together with the fact that her eyelids were soon drifting closed was enough to convince me that no matter what I thought I was capable of doing to her, she didn't believe it for a second. She was comfortable with me because she felt safe and that was enough to keep my anxieties in check. I couldn't do anything to her because it would not only hurt her, but it would disappoint her, and that was something I couldn't deal with.

*o*

Two days later, we were sitting on the patio eating breakfast – pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries for her, a plain pancake with a pile of fruit for me. We'd enjoyed our time away immensely, if the soft glow Stephanie was sporting said anything, but it was Monday and I needed to be back at work this afternoon to cover a very important client meeting.

After reconnecting on a primal, physical level for the first twelve hours of our stay we'd been completely sated and managed to engage in deep, meaningful discussions that were only occasionally interrupted by sex. I explained the deal I was working out with the government for my position of consultant rather than hired gun in more detail, and answered as many questions as I was able to without leaking top clearance secrets. We both agreed that with a baby on the way, it was a much better situation and I made a mental note to up my payment to the team of lawyers I had working on it to ensure they made it happen. The relief that washed through her every time she was reminded that I would be with her through every step of the pregnancy was enough to turn my stomach as I thought about how many times I'd left her to worry and wonder if I'd even make it back from a mission.

Then, of course, we'd talked about the baby. About logistical things like where we'd live. And about abstract things like which of us it'd take after more. It was all silly little fantasies, but I had no problem indulging in them if it meant we were putting her mother's advice behind us.

Steph forked another cream covered strawberry into her mouth and licked her lips. "You never did say whether you wanted a girl or a boy," she said thoughtfully, reminding me of last night's discussion which had been abruptly cut off when she shifted on my lap and I couldn't hold back my urges any more.

"You're right," I said evasively.

"Nuh, uh," she uttered, pointing her fork at me. "You don't get out of it that easy. Which would you prefer?"

"I wouldn't mind either," I said. Which was the truth. It sounded cliché, but so long as it was healthy and happy and so was Steph, then I would be happy with whatever result.

She contemplated me for a long moment before she spoke again. "You already have a daughter," she said thoughtfully, "Don't you want a son as well? A matching set?"

"Babe," I replied, unable to hold back my smile. "If we're talking about a matching set, both children would have to be with you."

Just as I suspected, her face broke into a grimace at the thought of multiple children. She may have come to terms (slightly) with the thought of one child, but repeating the process was too much for her at the moment. "How about we get this one through its first year of life before we think about adding more to the mix," she suggested, turning her fork to point at her stomach.

I couldn't help it. My grin grew wider and I took a moment to chew a piece of orange from my salad before I mentioned, "You never know, it could be twins." That comment earned me a glare. Followed by a slap to the bicep which caused more damage to her than me as she exclaimed that I was horrible person for even thinking such things. Chuckling as I caught up her now injured hand and pressed my lips to it, I assured her that I was only joking. She glared a while longer, but I ignored it as I finished my breakfast and watched as she did the same.

Once we were done, we locked up and were back on the road heading home. Steph switched her phone on once we'd reached the highway and we were treated to a constant stream of beeps and vibrations as her missed calls and messages from the weekend were sent through. For five whole minutes.

"Thirty missed calls, and twenty three text messages," she reported when the car was quiet once more.

"All from your mother?" I asked.

She hesitated before answering and I feared the worst. "Half of them are from yours," she informed me, holding up her phone for me to see. "You don't think my mother called her, do you?" she asked.

I shook my head, but it wasn't to deny her suggestion, it was because I was pretty sure that was what had happened and I was frustrated anew with the woman. "I think that is exactly what happened," I said through gritted teeth. "Better check my cell too."

She did, and we were subjected to another, longer round of beeping and vibrating. "Fifty missed calls," she said, reading off the screen. "Your mother, your sisters, Abuela Rosa. There's even a message from your dad."

I glanced over at her, noting an exit sign up ahead and the bridge that crossed the highway just beyond it, leading to an on ramp going in the opposite direction. "We could make a u-turn and head back for a few more days," I suggested. "Go back to where they can't reach us." My tone was hopeful. As much as I hated dealing with Stephanie's mother, my own was just as bad when it came to meddling. The only difference was whereas Helen Plum was determined to point out all the bad things and make Steph doubt her decisions, Maria Manoso just wanted to be involved in such a happy occasion. Plus, she'd probably be cut that we didn't actually visit and let her know before Helen got to her.

Steph shook her head. "No. You have that meeting this afternoon," she reminded me. "And we can't hide from them forever. Plus, we should probably tell the guys so they can commence planning their over protective measures for the next nine months. Then we should probably go visit your parents."

"Babe," I said, a half smile on my face, despite the dread of my mother's wrath curling in the pit of my stomach. "They already have a plan worked out, it's just a matter of implementing it." She groaned, know deep down that it was probably true and zoomed past the ever so tempting off ramp, continuing on to Trenton and the chaos that awaited us.

 _ **Thank you for reading. I hope I did the characters justice in this kind of situation.**_


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